


Breathe

by Shatterpath



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Alternate Universe, Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Corsetry, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-30
Updated: 2004-05-30
Packaged: 2017-11-04 19:46:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/397537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterpath/pseuds/Shatterpath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sensual experiment done safely. Just remember to breathe…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This is a bit kinky, but that's no real surprise, huh?
> 
> Pairing: Dace and a friend. You know her, but can you ID her? This idea came from a reference in an episode of CSI. I believe it was the one where we met Lady Heather.

 

(5-30-04)

 

It took months for Dace to trust me enough to see this side of her life. Sure, an outsider might think that the kink is worn on those battered leather sleeves, but an observer sees only what she wants them to see.

 

My months of persistent curiosity have paid off in the tug of her strong hands at the laces cinching this unfamiliar kink about my trembling body.

 

Why can I practically hear Olivia cackling about being careful what I wish for?

 

Some distant part of me hears the stutter of my breath at this completely foreign stimulation of my brain and body. "Relax," Dace purrs softly in that predator tone that brought me here in the first place. The lizard-brain panic of the suffocating embrace recedes a bit even before I'm truly aware of it, distracted by the soft mouth on my neck. Licking and kissing across my shoulders, Dace tugs again, making me whimper and tremble.

 

Ever since that recent trip to Lady Heather's with Dace and Grissom, this has tormented me. Didn't they just know it too? Even Gris picked up on my fascination, damn him.

 

Despite myself, I squeal and cry out at the wolf bite at the base of my neck. This is an old hot spot that my pack is very familiar with now. Laving the imprint of her teeth in my skin with a wet tongue, Dace growls and purrs at me, making me moan.

 

"You're thinking too much," Dace complains mildly and I really can't argue. My shake of my head makes her sigh. "Goof. Get a good grip on those loops." Knowing better than to argue, I take a white-knuckled grip on the soft cotton loops that act as psychological restraints, as they are not actually tied to my skin and bones. "Good girl."

 

Fluidly, I feel her move, one hand remaining fisted into the laces at my back, and she is now chest to chest with me. It's not until I feel her breath in my face that I even remember that I'm blindfolded and cannot see the magnetic blue eyes. Then she licks at the corner of my mouth teasingly as her free hand, the tattooed and scarred right, hooks my thigh over her hip.

 

The air conditioning is cool against my soaked pubes and I shiver at the sensation compiling atop the others. Breath constricted by the leather, linen and spring steel boning holding my ribs and waist captive heightens my aroused panting, forcing awareness of every breath, every muscle, every rib and vertebrae. Dace doesn't kiss me, but breathes with me, nuzzling my face and using the whole length of her body to heighten the swirling sensations.

 

There's a scrape of sound as one of her legs snakes out and I figure it's the chair nearby. When her now upraised thigh surges into my heat, I figure that I'm right. The new position pulls me onto my toes, my body leaning back in the loops loose around my wrists.

 

"Damn you look delectable," my tall lover mumbles and ducks to whisper that ragged hair over my chest, tickling my skin. Her breath is hot, her mouth gentle as she takes a swollen nipple behind her teeth to worry at it. Distantly, I can hear myself crying out for mercy or more, it's hard to tell. Grinding my aching cunt onto the smooth weave of Dace's jeans, I savor the way this feels, doing my damnest to really soak it all up.

 

There's no reason to fight it, the sucking pull of the burn in my body, scorching my nerves and making me howl for it. With a shift of my hips, my clit is abruptly in contact with the heavy wrinkles of fabric at Dace's pelvis and the orgasm is a rushing tidal wave of feeling.

 

When my brain reasserts itself, I'm astride Dace's lap, sans blindfold and I can feel her hands plucking at the laces that free my lungs to process the levels of air that I'm used to.

 

"Damn," I breathe into her neck and earn a low, sexy chuckle.

 

"So, guess what," Dace rumbles conversationally as she continues to unlace the corset that she commissioned for me from Lady Heather. "I think I've confirmed a theory."

 

"Mmm hmm," I hum uncaringly where I'm cradled by her larger body.

 

"It's not the corset so much that makes you come so hard."

 

That makes me pause and my recently neglected investigator brain perk up. Sitting up, I study the familiar face and the blue eyes we share, now honest and calm. With a yank, the laces leave the corset, snapping my ass and making me jump. Dace smiles a bit, but her expression remains oddly cop-like. I'm missing something important and bend my braincells to the task.

 

Even the quickie on Dace's thigh made me orgasm hard enough that I completely lost what must be a good minute or longer. The feel of her mouth on my chest, but I knew that sensation, the rough denim on my pubes, but that was similar sensations to things that I've felt before. The corset then, wrapped so tight that my breathing whirs constricted and dangerous in my chest…

 

I get it now and meet Dace's calm, accepting eyes. "It's a common enough fetish, Fetch." Damn that silly nickname from Catherine. "Asphyxiation as a sexual medium."

 

Despite myself, I scowl. "It sounds like a bad cliché. The kind of thing the bad guys die of in stupid Hollywood movies."

 

A faint smile mixes with fond irritation as Dace smacks me lightly on the back of the head. "You're healthy, with a strong heart and holding your breath makes you get hornier and come harder. What's not to like?" Abruptly she goes serious and I know to listen carefully to this, her area of expertise. "But you have to promise me to be careful when you experiment. This can kill you, all Hollywood stereotypes aside. I like you way to damn much to lose you to a kink, okay?"

 

"Okay," I tell her sincerely. "I promise." Then I have to grin wickedly and tousle the fine hair at the base of her neck. "Besides, I have you to experiment with. Who better?"

 

That earns me the laugh I'm looking for and a warm, deep kiss. The corset slithers away, it's purpose fulfilled and I'm treated to the lovely sensations of Dace's fully clothed body against my nakedness. "Seems that scene went awfully fast," I murmur against her lips and breathe in her chuckle. "Permission to get you naked and crawl into the bed?"

 

"Permission granted, smartass."

 

With a stinging slap to my ass, Dace surges to her feet, setting me on mine in the process. With much giggling and touching, we get Dace stripped and tumble to the big bed in the playroom she'd reserved for the night. This time our lovemaking is vanilla and face to face, more what we're used to in our pack of four.

 

The time to experiment will never be far away.

 

 

Author's note: Beat this out in about an hour the morning of August 26, 2007. The corset image would not leave me alone and this is the result. Can you guess who the willing victim is?


End file.
